Australia, explained.
Ten songs now carry Australia’s official stamp. What they say to the world was never this tidy (Danielle-Claude Bélanger/Unsplash)
Official curation can elevate a song without controlling how listeners understand its politics.
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Australia has picked its national soundtrack – but not its storyAustralia has picked its national soundtrack – but not its story
A country need not agree with the lyrics of a song for it to become part of its identity. For decades, Americans have sung along to Creedence Clearwater Revival’s Fortunate Son, even though it criticised the privileges enjoyed by some during the Vietnam War. Protest music can become a favourite without losing its political message.
Australia’s new National Songbook (Opens in new window) raises a different question: what does it tell an international audience when cultural institutions choose protest songs for future generations to remember?
The initiative, launched on 4 November by the National Film and Sound Archive (NFSA) and APRA AMCOS, and supported by the Australian government, begins with ten works selected for their cultural significance, including Beds Are Burning by Midnight Oil, Treaty by Yothu Yindi and Peter Sculthorpe’s orchestral piece Earth Cry.
Some have gained significance by criticising Australian society, not celebrating it.
Released in 1987, Beds Are Burning drew attention to the issue of Aboriginal land rights in the run-up to the bicentenary of British colonisation. Its international success took this political debate beyond Australia’s borders.
The song Treaty by Yothu Yindi put forward a different demand. It emerged after Prime Minister Bob Hawke’s 1988 promise to work towards concluding a treaty with Aboriginal Australians remained unfulfilled. Released in 1991, it blended the musical traditions of the Yolŋu people with contemporary popular music, reaching listeners unfamiliar with the political demands behind it.
Research by musicologist Aaron Corn (Opens in new window) helps to explain its significance. Yothu Yindi’s work was not merely Western popular music conveying an Indigenous message. The group, led by Mandawuy Yunupiŋu, drew on Yolŋu concepts relating to cultural exchange and relationships with the land.
If we remember Treaty merely as a successful Australian hit, we risk overlooking what its creators sought to convey.
Australia’s musical identity has never developed in isolation. During the colonial period, European performers introduced international repertoire, while settler musicians helped build Australia’s local musical institutions.
The English-born composer and violinist Florence Maud Ewart (Opens in new window), educated in Britain and Germany, moved to Melbourne in 1906 and became an active figure in Australian musical life, composing operas and conducting performances – proof that cultural exchange could foster local music rather than hinder it.
However, Australia’s musical history did not begin with European colonisation. The musical traditions of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples existed long before that, and their significance cannot be assessed solely through the prism of recognition by national institutions.
This, in my view, is what makes cultural independence particularly interesting. Australia does not need to reject its British heritage in order to forge its own identity. Nor does being Australian mean identifying with any one musical style. Defining national culture also implies recognising that different communities will understand it differently.
Overseas listeners are introduced to a carefully curated selection that includes songs which challenge the country’s treatment of its own people.
The Songbook gives Australians yet another opportunity to make the most of this freedom. It does not dictate what they should listen to, but invites them to reflect on what is worthy of being remembered.
Bands such as Midnight Oil and Yothu Yindi introduced an international audience to Australian political debates through their music, rather than through an official cultural program.
The NFSA and APRA AMCOS take a different approach. They are now choosing to recognise these songs as part of Australia’s musical history. Overseas listeners are introduced to a carefully curated selection that includes songs which challenge the country’s treatment of its own people.
According to APRA AMCOS (Opens in new window), works eligible for inclusion must have been released at least ten years earlier, must have been written or co-written by an Australian member of APRA, and must demonstrate clear cultural influence. Panel members independently nominated works prior to the final selection.
Sculthorpe’s Earth Cry shows that the collection extends beyond commercially successful popular music. But these rules also leave some music at a disadvantage. Traditions passed down outside formal publishing and recording systems may be harder to include.
That does not make the project less worthwhile. Ten works cannot possibly reflect the full breadth of Australian musical life. Choosing ten works inevitably means leaving others out.
Some will dispute the selection; others will wonder why their favourite works have been omitted. Such disagreements may encourage people to discover unfamiliar music.
What interests me most is what younger Australians might do with this collection. A young Australian discovering Treaty through the Songbook should learn why it was written, rather than simply memorising its chorus. Someone who becomes acquainted with Ewart’s music may develop an interest in the musicians who shaped Australian classical life. There is little point preserving music if nobody gets the chance to discover it.
The collection will grow each year, and so will the opportunities to learn from it.
Preserving protest songs does not eliminate the injustices that inspired them. Nor should a national songbook resolve all disputes over identity. It can, however, provide Australians with the knowledge and freedom to continue defining that identity for themselves.
About the author
Stacy Jarvis
Stacy Jarvis is a music historian, writer and classical musician whose research focuses on 19th-century European musical culture and the relationship between music, politics and society.
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